Chapter XIII
"Born of a railroad, Atlanta grew as its railroads grew. With the completion of the four lines, Atlanta was connected with the West, with the South, with the Coast and, through Augusta, with the North and East..."
... It was here then, that Scarlett and Rhett broke their long and arduous journey from Nassau, before preparing to travel on to Clayton County and Tara. The journey so far had been difficult, particularly for Scarlett who was unused to the vigour's of travel. She was glad to reach Atlanta then, gladder than she could say, particularly when she learnt that Rhett had once again reserved the bridal suite at the National Hotel, the very place they had spent their wedding night, over a year ago.
"You sweet man," she whispered to him, as he helped her prepare for bed immediately upon their arrival.
She slept solidly, hours and hours of sleep and awoke feeling immensely refreshed and ravenously hungry. After putting away a breakfast that left Rhett laughing, Scarlett immediately wanted to get out and about.
"Why should I not want to show off my handsome husband and my pretty dresses?" Scarlett asked, when Rhett bid her to wait. "I had no chance to do it when we were first married. I'm due any number of balls and visits and parties in my honour."
"I think then, that you shall be disappointed," Rhett replied. "Atlanta is at war, my darling. And while there may be time for social visits and a bazaar or two to aid the war effort, there certainly won't be parties held solely in your honour."
Scarlett frowned at that, for, as egomaniacal as she could sometimes be, she had never considered that the people of Atlanta might be too busy for her.
"Well, I might at least go and visit Melanie Wilkes then," Scarlett declared with a pout, too busy playing the victim to see the queer look that passed over her husband's face.
"Certainly go and visit Mrs. Wilkes," Rhett responded, the long absent derisive note in his voice returning.
"Won't you come with me, Rhett?" Scarlett was surprised that he was not insisting on accompanying her.
"Not this time. I've business to see to. I shall leave you there so I know you are well entertained and on your next visit, if time permits, I shall go with you."
"Oh," Scarlett was rather disappointed with this, how was she to show off her husband if he were not there to be shown off? And besides, Scarlett rather missed Rhett. In the last months he had been so busy that she felt as if she hardly saw him, except at night, when he was too exhausted for anything except the most perfunctory of attentions. She longed for the languid days of their Paris honeymoon, when his every minute had been devoted to her and his sole purpose was to meet her every whim.
"Go and change for your visits, darling," Rhett told her, not oblivious to her melancholy.
Scarlett nodded, brightening at the thought of her clothes and made for her dressing room.
Rhett sighed, running a weary hand over his face as he lit another cigar. Sitting in the low backed chair, leg bent over knee and staring errantly out the window, he was reminded, not for the first time, of the child he had married. He knew Scarlett had been feeling neglected lately, had expected that she would, once his days were no longer devoted solely to her pleasure and instead to matters of the real world. Still, every time he disappointed her, her downturned face was like a knife in the gut and he found he couldn't be content until he saw her smile again. For a man as unaccustomed to seeking others pleasure as Rhett, this was a new and confounding experience for him. Loving Scarlett Butler was hard work.
Rhett laughed when Scarlett swept out of their dressing room, resplendent in a white muslin morning dress, with blue vertical stripes and a matching plumage bonnet. She looked the absolute height of fashion and completely out of place in Atlanta.
"My dear, you do realize that the ladies of Atlanta will have no finery such as this to wear?"
"I shall be the prettiest girl in Atlanta today then," Scarlett tossed her head, making the plumage dance enticingly. "And certainly the most fashionable dressed!"
Rhett could not argue with her there, so, after a quick pause for him to shrug into his morning jacket, they were off.
Melanie Hamilton lived with her Aunt, Miss Pittypat Hamilton in a well-appointed house in Peachtree Street, almost the last house on the North side of town. Scarlett had written ahead to inform Melanie of her plans to visit and she was surprised to see her waiting on the front steps, a loving smile of welcome and happiness on her heart-shaped face.
As she had promised, Scarlett had started a correspondence with Mrs. Wilkes from the time she and Rhett had arrived in Paris, a year ago. To Scarlett's surprise, she had rather enjoyed her letters from Melanie, full of information about their mutual friends and praise for her 'dear Mrs. Butler.' Melanie was everything Scarlett had long thought her to be, even-tempered, shy and unassuming, but with a genial nature that was so sweet that even Scarlett was hard pressed to continue her previous dislike of the young woman.
"Mrs. Butler, welcome," Melanie smiled and took Scarlett's hands as she alighted the steps to the house, kissing her softly on each cheek. Scarlett was once again struck by how slight and child-like Melanie was; her skin as soft as silk, her figure unformed, her face unblemished, she reminded Scarlett of a wood nymph. "I'm so glad to have you here at last."
Settled in the parlour over coffee and a good selection of cakes, Melanie declared she wanted to know every detail of Scarlett's exciting life in Paris and Nassau.
"For your letters are lovely of course, but I should love to hear of them in person!"
Scarlett was more than happy to oblige and with the art of story telling inherited from her Irish father, weaved a story of pure delight for the ears of Melanie and her aunt.
"Oh, my dear, what an exciting life you've led!" Melanie exclaimed. "And us, buried here in Atlanta, thinking we know what of the world. Though we are terribly excited, for tonight there is to be a bazaar, to raise money for the hospital and the Cause. Oh do say you and Captain Butler will come, Scarlett?"
Scarlett thought of the half dozen ball gowns she had bought with her and the fashionable figure she and Rhett would cut amongst the dowdy population of Atlanta.
"I believe we shall."
It was the biggest party Atlanta had ever seen. Only that afternoon the room had been a bare and ugly drill room, how the ladies must have worked to bring it to its present beauty! Every candle in Atlanta seemed to be on display, standing on the gun racks that ran the length of the fall, on the flower-decked tables, on booth candles and even on the sills of the open windows, where the draughts of a warm summer air were just strong enough to make them flare. Greenery exploded throughout the room, masking the ugly lamp that hung from the ceiling on rusty chains and the raised platforms that the musicians were to play on. At the other end of the hall hung pictures of President Davis and Vice-President Stephens, two faces that were greatly loved by all.
With matrons sequestered into booths and the old ladies in the back rooms laying out refreshments, the hall burst into life as the Belles of Atlanta and their escorts, young men on furlough, members of the Home Guard, recuperating injured and the few Atlanta men who were not soldiers, arrived.
Scarlett and Rhett, still in their Hotel, missed all of this however, for Scarlett was determined to make a fashionably late entrance, befitting, so she thought, their position as honoured guests of Atlanta society. Rhett was more than happy to oblige her, and dedicated his not inconsiderable talents to making the delay more than pleasurable for both of them, the result being red flushed cheeks and a glow about Scarlett's person that made her even more becoming than she otherwise might have been.
Entering the room, a quick glance proved to Scarlett what she had already suspected, her dress was the most fashionable of all, even of Atlanta's Belles and she was, surely, the most beautiful woman in the room.
No sooner had they entered the room, than the orchestra burst into the Southern anthem, 'Bonnie Blue Flag.'
Scarlett sang along with the rest, without the fanaticism and fervour that every other woman in the room seemed to possess. Every woman present was blazing with an emotion she did not feel, the white heat of devotion to the Cause was shining on every face and, to Scarlett, it seemed silly! She did not share with these women their fierce pride, their desire to sacrifice themselves and everything they had for the Cause. The Cause meant nothing to her and, even after only a day in town, she was bored with hearing other people talk of it. Why, war was not a holy affair, but a nuisance that saw men killed, cost endless money and took Scarlett's own husband away from her to run the blockades.
Too full of good, hard-hearted Irish sense, Scarlett refused to make a fool over herself about the Cause. Rhett had been right all along! The Confederacy was going to get licked, and damned if Scarlett O'Hara Butler was going down with it!
"You finally see it, my dear," Rhett murmured, for he had been watching her face and had seen the transformation that had come across it. "What I have been telling you all along. You're a girl in a million, Mrs. Butler. Come, let's dance."
They danced and danced until Scarlett was breathless and Rhett red in the face from exertion and laughter. Both were quite aware of the spectacle they presented, though neither cared as they were having a fine time indeed. Eventually, Scarlett begged off from dancing and Rhett instructed her to go about the room to the stalls, pressing a pouch of gold coins into her hand.
"Buy something from every booth darling, or you'll mortally offend some old ninny," he laughed.
"Rhett what do we want with a dozen ugly pillowcases?"
"Nothing my dear, but that is not the point after all. We'll take them back to Nassau with us and entertain the boys there with them."
He kissed her carelessly then, before striding in the opposite direction. No sooner had he left however, before Scarlett was besieged with young girls, all complimentary and envious in equal measures, demanding details of the fashions of Paris, for none had seen a copy of Goodey's that year at least.
Scarlett waxed lyrical about the fashions of Paris, going into minute detail and comparing all fashions to the ones she currently had in her wardrobe. She promised faithfully that if the young ladies might call on her she would be happy to show them the contents of her dressing room, so that they might get a better idea of what she was speaking of. Finally, she promised to beg her husband to include a few dozen copies of the ladies magazine in his next shipment, leaving the girls swooning with delight and declaring that Scarlet Butler was the best of all women and her husband certainly the most handsome of men.
Scarlett made her way around the booths then, spending frivolously, leaving change behind and gathering things by the dozens. Rhett, she knew, would arrange to have them removed to their hotel room at the National. She bought gifts for all their friends in Nassau, a few for friends in Paris and of course for those back at Tara. She bought pound cakes and layer cakes and scones, despite the fact that they were very well catered for at the National. Most of what she bought was useless, but Scarlett was happy enough to be generous, and more than a little eager to show off just how wealthy a woman her husband had made her.
As often as she could manage she would mention Paris and Nassau. Everything reminded her of some grand event she had attended there and she said so, often and loudly. She was determined for everyone she met to know that while they had been living their usual, boring Atlanta lives, she and her handsome husband had been tripping around the globe, leading rich, exciting lives.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself my dear," Rhett commented, catching up to her. "How much of my hard earned money have you spent on fripperies this evening?"
"Oh plenty," Scarlett responded carelessly, plastering herself lovingly against his side. "And everybody is so jealous of us."
"And is it necessary, darling, to make every one jealous of us?"
"Of course Rhett, you silly thing," Scarlett crooned, stroking his sleeve gently, just in case anyone was watching. "I want everybody to be jealous of us, for they all said hateful things about us getting married and now we can show them just how happy and rich we are."
"My vengeful little darling," Rhett laughed. "Don't you worry, we shall show them yet."
There was a roll of drums then, and many voices cried 'Shh!' as Dr. Meade mounted the platform and spread his arms for quiet. Scarlett was hard pressed not to role her eyes at his platitudes and burst into giggles as Rhett whispered to her –
"Pompous goat, isn't he?"
"We must have more money to buy medical supplies from England, and we have with us tonight the intrepid captain who has so successfully run the blockade and who will run it again to bring us the drugs we need. Captain Rhett Butler!"
Despite being caught unawares, Rhett made a graceful bow in response to the loud burst of applause from the assembled guests. Scarlett beamed at her clever husband, and hanging off his arms, looked every inch the proud wife.
"Ladies I want your jewellery. I want your jewellery? No, the Confederacy wants your jewellery..."
Scarlett couldn't hold back her horror filled gasp as the basket came round on the arm of a little Zouve. She was wearing her very best jewellery in an effort to show off and she was loathe to part with any of it.
"Throw the bangle in darling," Rhett advised lowly, tossing his gold cigar case in carelessly. "I'll replace it."
Relieved, Scarlett struggled with the clasp of her heavy gold bangle, an item she'd found in a Parisian boutique and had purchased carelessly, enjoying the pattern engraved into the metal. That it would most likely be melted down was heartbreaking and Scarlett thought it best not to ponder its fate.
Dr. Meade was talking again now, and Scarlett battered her fan errantly, hardly listening to his words. How the man did run on! Scarlett was more than ready for this to be over and for the dancing to begin again.
"Listen now," Rhett advised her gently. "The good doctor is about to scandalize Atlanta."
"Gentlemen, if you wish to lead a reel with the lady of your choice, you must bargain for her. I will be auctioneer and the proceeds will go to the hospital."
"Oh!" Scarlett could have stamped her foot. "If I were a belle still I'd make a fortune for the Cause! Every man here would be bidding on me!"
Rhett grinned at her and, had Scarlett been paying attention, she might have been more suspicious, but she was too busy watching the reactions of the old busy bodies and thinking crossly how much she would have made had she still been a belle.
The bidding started then, and as it reached seventy-five dollars an unmistakable Charleston voice rang out above the hubbub of other names.
"Mrs. Rhett Butler – one hundred and fifty dollars – in gold."
The crowd gasped in response to such a sum and Scarlett blushed darkly with pleasure. How good her husband was! Everybody turned to look at her, standing with her husband, he smiling sardonically, and she beaming with delight.
"For your own wife Sir? Not another of our belles perhaps?" Dr. Meade queried.
"No," said Rhett clearly, his eyes sweeping the crowd carelessly, clearly finding them lacking. "Mrs. Rhett Butler."
"On your head be it, Sir," Dr. Meade replied, shaking his head at the antics of rich, young men. "Captain and Mrs. Rhett Butler to lead the reel!"
The orchestra leader was quick to cover the situation and bawled: "Choose yo' panders fo' de Ferginny reel!"
And the orchestra crashed into that best of all reel tunes, 'Dixie.'
"How dare you make me so conspicuous, Captain Butler?" Scarlett demanded, as they took their places at the head of the reel.
"But my dear Mrs. Butler, you so obviously wanted to be made conspicuous!"
"Rhett you're awful," she giggled. "We've scandalized everybody. Whoever heard of a man wanting to dance with his wife enough to pay for her!"
"No other man has a wife as pretty, and as silly, as I do," Rhett replied. "Nor a wife who so obviously wishes to still be a young, unmarried belle."
"Oh Rhett, I shouldn't want to be unmarried," Scarlett tossed her head gaily and laughed. The unthinking smile she sent to him was the kind that made his heart skip a beat, as unstudied and as genuinely happy as it was. "You truly are the best of husbands."
"Your only husband, I should hope," Rhett teased to keep his true emotions from showing. "Does this mean I am forgiven for my recent neglect of you as I've run the blockades?"
"I've always understood you know," Scarlett responded quietly, as they stood and applauded the end of the reel. "Oh thank goodness the reel has finished. They always leave me quite breathless."
"Liar," Rhett breathed, his tone turning the word to an endearment. "Shall we dance the waltz, Mrs. Butler?"
"Yes please, Captain Butler. I feel as if I could dance all night!"
"Then dance all night you shall," Rhett responded, taking her firmly in his arms, holding her far closer than was proper. "Even if it does cost me a small fortune!"